by Dan Smith
Images erupted in his mind.
Bam! Zak was sitting in Mr Anderson’s office – not Doctor Anderson because consultants prefer Mister – listening to why he had been getting so many headaches and why he’d had that the seizure during French. There was something growing in his brain, so the doctor was going to put Zak to sleep and drill a small hole in his head and take a sample of what was in there and . . .
Bam! Zak was wearing a pale blue hospital gown – why is it always pale blue? – and he was watching himself from the corner of the room as the doctor touched the drill to the side of his head and pressed the trigger and . . .
Bam! He was back in the doctor’s office, Mum and Dad with serious faces as Mr Anderson explained the treatment that would follow and . . .
Bam! He was in Antarctica, staring at an old-fashioned explorer who was standing by a huge crack in the ice, beckoning to him with both hands and . . .
Bam! He was floating above a shimmering sea of insects crawling over one another, taking flight, rising in two never-ending spirals of fluorescent yellow and . . .
The images stopped. A flash of white, and the presence inside his head began to move away like a silk sheet slowly slipping away from a table to reveal the wood beneath.
Zak blinked and the drone-thing was still there in the doorway to Refuge. May was still beside him.
Whatever had just happened to Zak, no one had noticed. They had either been too busy watching the thing outside, or it had happened too quickly for them to see, but his legs felt weak and when he put a hand on May to steady himself, she turned to look at him.
‘I’m . . .’ Wasn’t it time to tell them? About the polar bear? About the explorer? About the feeling that something was trying to get into his head? It was important. He was sure it had something to do with what was happening here. But he didn’t know where to start. How could he even begin to tell them?
‘It’s moving,’ Mum said. She tightened her lips and her zigzag scar went white again.
Zak looked back at the window to see the mechanical monstrosity lift itself a little higher off the ground and shift backwards.
‘Is it letting us past?’ Mum asked. ‘Is that what it’s doing?’
Before any of them could answer, a group of small spiders came into view, scuttling into the corridor like an army. At least twenty of them, they swept across the pale blue floor. They were similar in size and shape to the scuttling thing that had attacked them in the Drone Bay, and the things they’d seen attached to the people in Storage, but these were different. They had evolved.
As they advanced into Refuge, the lock on the office door disengaged with a quiet click, and the door slid open.
JANUARY ISLAND, SOUTH CHINA SEA
2 HOURS AGO
‘Why don’t you come in, Dad?’
The Broker glanced up from the smartphone and watched his eldest son drag himself out of the pool, dripping on the expensive Italian tiles. Even this early, when the sun had barely risen, his children loved to be in the water.
‘Come on, don’t be so boring.’
Putting the smartphone on the glass-topped table, he shook his head. ‘You know me, David. I prefer to stay dry. Anyway, I’ve just had my breakfast.’ He indicated the lavish spread of fresh fruit and pastries on the poolside table in front of him – Chef always put out far too much and The Broker sometimes wondered if she was trying to make him fat. Or fatter. ‘And you know what they say about swimming too soon after you’ve eaten.’
‘That’s a myth.’ David smiled and flicked water across his father’s face. ‘Wimp.’
‘Careful.’ The Broker gave his son a fake stern look. ‘This is the shirt your mother gave me for our anniversary.’
‘And you’d better not ruin it.’ Sitting beside him, his wife, Natalia, spoke without taking her eyes off her Town and Country magazine. ‘That cost a fortune.’
David ignored her and flicked water at his dad again, spraying a line of dark spots across the deep red silk shirt.
‘Stop it. She’ll kill me if it gets ruined.’ The Broker cast a sly glance at his wife, pretending to be worried, but when David came closer, he cracked a smile that showed perfect white teeth. ‘Cheeky monkey.’ He leapt from his seat at the table and gave chase as his son made a quick getaway. ‘I’ll get you for that.’
The boy darted across the tiles and on to the well-tended grass. He dodged this way and that, but the Broker was quick despite his size. When the boy feinted left for the third time, The Broker caught his wrist in one powerful hand and pulled the boy towards him.
‘Now for your punishment!’ He bent at the knees and took his son’s leg in his other hand, hoisting him over his head. He strode towards the pool, went right to the edge, and threw the boy as far as he could.
The boy hit the middle of the swimming pool with a huge splash that sent waves filtering out in all directions.
‘I am invincible!’ The Broker raised his arms above his head and fist-pumped the air. ‘No one can—’
‘That’s what you think.’ His daughter had crept up behind him, ready to shove her father into the pool. But The Broker’s instincts were keen. Before she could put her hands on him, he twisted, snatched her arms towards him, and threw her in beside her brother.
‘It’ll take more than that to sneak up on me, young lady.’
‘How do you do that?’ she laughed. ‘How did you know?’
‘I’m always watching, Jennifer.’ He touched two fingers to his eyes, then pointed at her. ‘I see everything, remember.’
‘Next time.’ She splashed water at him. ‘I’ll get you, next time.’
The Broker stepped back to avoid being drenched, and stood admiring his children as they dived beneath the surface. He had so much to be grateful for. His wealth, his health, his family.
A faint ping interrupted his thoughts and he glanced back at the breakfast table. His wife peered over the top of her magazine and lowered her sunglasses. ‘No rest for the wicked, darling.’
‘No rest indeed,’ he said, returning to the table and sitting down to check the large smartphone. The name ‘Phoenix’ was displayed on the screen.
The Broker poured himself another pineapple juice, and picked up the phone.
‘I have an update for you, sir.’
‘I’m in a good mood, Phoenix. Please don’t spoil it.’ The Broker smiled to his wife. In turn, she reached across and rubbed the back of his hand.
‘Lazarovich is almost on site, sir. Everything is going according to schedule.’
‘Perfect.’
‘There is one, thing, though.’
The Broker narrowed his eyes and his smile dropped away. ‘Go on.’
‘If you take a look at the image I’ve sent through.’
‘Just a moment.’ The Broker took the phone from his ear. He clicked the icon that appeared, and the screen filled with a satellite image of the base. It was similar to the previous images, except for one or two things. One of those things was the small plane on the landing strip. He double-tapped it to zoom in for a better view and studied the image for a few seconds. When he was ready, he put the phone back to his ear. ‘Explain.’
‘It’s a Twin Otter, sir, flown in from the South Shetland Islands. The pilot goes by the name of Dimitri Alekseyevich Milanov. Records show he’s a failed military pilot. He’s of no concern to us. The plane was carrying four passengers, though – Drs Evelyn and Adam Reeves, and their two children, Zak and May.’
‘Shame.’
‘How do you wish us to proceed, sir?’
The Broker exchanged a glance with his wife, and then fixed his eyes on the pool where his children were still playing. He thought about the plane on the landing strip, and the five people it had contained. Drs Evelyn and Adam Reeves might be a valuable asset to his organization if he could find a way of arranging it so they didn’t know they were working for him – he had no interest in forcing them to work for him. Or, perhaps, he could sell them. But that was not
the aim of this mission. The aim was to find out what BioMesa had discovered beneath the ice, and take control of it. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that they had found something of huge importance. Something of great value.
The Broker’s daughter burst from the surface of the pool and shook the water from her eyes, before raising a hand and waving. He returned the wave, feeling a surge of love for his children, then looked once more at the image on his smartphone. The plane on the runway.
No, the Reeves family was an unnecessary distraction.
He stood and walked a few paces away from the table. ‘Eliminate them,’ he said. ‘No one can know about this.’
‘All of them, sir?’
‘Yes. All of them.’ The Broker ended the call with a quick tap of his thumb, and returned to sit beside his wife. He leant over and kissed her on the cheek.
‘Work trouble?’ Natalia lowered her magazine and watched her husband.
‘In a manner of speaking.’
‘Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure. Just don’t let it ruin your mood.’
The Broker smiled in agreement. ‘I won’t, Natalia. I promise. Everything will turn out fine.’ He kissed her again, then sat back and closed his eyes.
The sun was warm on his face.
It was going to be a glorious day.
OUTPOST ZERO, ANTARCTICA
NOW
Tick-tack-tick-tack. Zak’s ears were filled with the scary scurrying sound of tiny legs tapping against the solid floor. Any second now, they would be inside.
Dad went straight for the controls, slamming his fist on the button. ‘Close!’ he shouted as he pummelled at it. ‘Close!’ But the door remained open.
Tick-tack-tick-tack.
‘Manual override!’ Mum moved forward to join Dad, but he yelled at her to get back.
‘Stay with the kids!’
Mum retreated to stand in front of Zak and May, stretching her arms out like it would do any good. Dad fumbled with the panel to the override lever. In his panic, he struggled to get his fingers into the gap.
‘They’re coming!’ May shouted.
‘I know!’ Dad abandoned his attempts with the door and stepped back to face the invading creatures as they came into view.
The scuttling spider-things had patches of shining black armour on their backs, grey and fleshy joints, and legs edged with hard serrations. They were a mechanical skeleton with an organic – living – covering, but they looked as if they hadn’t yet finished becoming what they were supposed to be. They hadn’t finished growing.
They moved fast, reaching the door in seconds, and Dad stamped hard on the first to enter the room.
Bullseye. There was a crunch and a squish as the bug crushed beneath the tread of his boot.
His success gave Zak a sudden burst of hope, but when Dad raised his foot again, bringing it down hard, the second spider-thing leapt aside at the last moment, and he stamped on nothing but air and pale blue flooring. Unbalanced by his failure, Dad faltered, and the thing took advantage of his vulnerability. It jumped on to the top of his boot and darted upwards, its serrated legs clinging to the material of his trousers. Dad whirled around, stamping his foot, flailing to brush the monster away. As he struggled, another bug sprang on to his boot and began working its way up.
With a gasp, Mum rushed forward, beating her hands at Dad as if she were trying to put out a fire. ‘Get off him! Get off!’
More of the miniature monsters scuttled around them, and Mum took a couple out purely by accident, crunching them with the grim sound of cracking and squelching. But there were too many of them. They latched on to her boots and began racing up her legs. Others continued deeper into the room, heading straight for Zak and May.
‘No!’ May surged into action. ‘This is not happening!’ She dashed to the side of the room where a fire extinguisher was clipped to the wall. She tugged it from its fixings and pulled out the nozzle, turning to point it at the floor. Without hesitation, she squeezed the handle and WHOOSH! a burst of carbon dioxide shot from the extinguisher and engulfed the bugs in a billowing white cloud.
Small as they were, a direct hit from the extinguisher sent the scuttlers spinning away into the corridor. For a few seconds, they were disorientated, and May rushed forward to fire the extinguisher at Mum and Dad who were trying to swat the things from their clothes. With a WHOOOOSH! they disappeared in a huge cloud, and Zak heard the sound of the spider-things dropping to the floor.
As soon as she had done it, May raised the fire extinguisher and brought it down on the nearest monster, killing it with a sickening crunch.
By the door, the rest of them were beginning to recover and regroup. They were moving again, turning this way and that in confusion, their legs skittering on the floor.
Zak spun around, searching for a weapon, desperate to help.
What would Jackson Jones do? And then he had an idea.
‘May!’ Zak grabbed the Ranged Chemical Delivery System from the wall and held it like a rifle. ‘They’re coming back!’ He pointed it at the bugs and pulled the trigger and—
— nothing happened. He tried the trigger again, squeezing it four or five times in quick succession, but still nothing happened.
‘The red button!’ Dad shouted. ‘By the handle!’
Zak pushed the button and aimed the Ranger once more, pointing it at the creatures that were making their way back into the room.
‘You have to pump the slide,’ Dad yelled at him. ‘The part in your left hand.’
Zak knew exactly what he meant – it was just like the Nerf gun he had at home – so he racked the slide once, took aim and fired. This time there was a loud POP! and a fraction of a second later, a cloud of grey powder exploded on the ground by the door. It sprayed outwards like a burst bag of flour, instantly becoming a thick, cloudy gas that billowed out, obscuring the door. It lasted only a few seconds before it thinned and disappeared but, once again, the bugs were stunned by the attack.
‘Quick! Before they try again!’ He rushed forward, stamping his feet, and the others joined him like it was some kind of weird dance. The spider-things died under their boots with such a satisfying crunch that Zak was filled with a sense of power – of actually doing something. ‘In your face, bugs!’ he shouted as he stamped on another. ‘In. Your. FACE!’ The bug popped like a fat blueberry.
Gas drifted around him like smoke on a battlefield. The hard remains of bug shells and mechanical parts lay like broken machines of war. Sticky pools of disgusting grey mush were splattered around the floor. And Zak continued to stamp at the scuttlers. To stamp them out of existence. To kill, kill, kill.
‘I think that’s enough now.’ May touched his arm. ‘You can stop.’
Zak scanned the room. ‘Did we get them all?’ His blood was up, his adrenaline raging. ‘Are they all dead?’ He was out of breath, and sweating inside his coat. ‘Is that all of them?’
‘I think so.’ May stepped back, holding the fire extinguisher like a weapon.
‘That was quick thinking,’ Mum said. ‘Well done, you two. Are you all right?’
‘Yeah.’ May nudged Zak. ‘“In your face”?’
Zak grinned.
‘What are they?’ Mum was staring at the mess on the floor. ‘They were alive.’
‘I told you,’ Zak said. ‘It’s something to do with those insects. This grey stuff is the same. It’s like it’s adding to them, or something. Growing on them. It’s making them alive, and—’
‘It’s not over yet,’ Dad said. ‘That big one is still by the entrance. We need to shut it down.’
‘How?’ Mum asked.
‘Maybe this’ll work.’ Zak gave May the Ranger, and grabbed the fire extinguisher from her hands.
He strode out of the room and along the short corridor.
‘Zak? Zak!?’ Mum called after him, but he didn’t answer; he kept on going. Didn’t even flinch when Mum called his name. He marched right up to the thing that was cobbl
ed together out of parts from the Magpie and the plane.
As he approached, he saw more of the grey stuff in its joints. Threads of it snaked back towards its brain, but he didn’t care. And the strange thing was, it didn’t look as if the spider-thing cared either. It just sat there, and as Zak came closer to it, he fired the extinguisher in front of him.
WHOOSH!
A cloud of carbon dioxide shot out, filling the doorway and spilling into the cold Antarctic air. For a second the spider-thing was invisible, but Zak didn’t hesitate. He continued forward, picking up his pace, and turned the extinguisher in his hands so it was a solid steel battering ram. He stepped out on to the walkway and slammed it into the creature’s camera.
With a noise like two cars colliding at speed, the base of the extinguisher smashed into the thing’s lens, crushing glass and bending metal. The living machine shuddered under the force of the blow, moving its legs back to brace itself when Zak hit it a second time. Again came the sound of metal against metal, and the thing staggered backwards, its front legs faltering at the complicated joints. But Zak didn’t stop there. He forced it to retreat further and further along the walkway, raising the extinguisher again and again, denting metal, crushing glass, and cracking the weird beetle-like armour as he broke through to its fleshy, electronic brain. And each time he hammered it, the creature staggered back a little further, its legs weakening as Zak beat it into submission.
Halfway along the metal walkway, the monster’s front end tipped forward under the onslaught, its back legs skittering, trying to keep its body upright. And with a final killer blow, Zak raised the fire extinguisher high above his head like a pile driver and smashed it into the monster as hard as he could.
Pieces exploded in all directions, scattering across the walkway and shooting over the edge to fall to the ice below. The monster collapsed on to what was left of its face, then the back legs gave up, and the whole thing came crashing down like a piece of useless junk.
OUTPOST ZERO, ANTARCTICA
NOW
‘What on earth were you thinking?’ Mum called as she and the others ran to where Zak was standing.
